Taking a Page out of His Book
by whitetiger91
Summary: Poor Albus, his father is in Azkaban and now he isn't even allowed to visit him. So why isn't Gellert being sympathetic? One-shot written for Lokilette.
**Taking a Page out of His Book**

 _"There is no friend as loyal as a book."_

 _― Ernest Hemingway_

"Maybe we should start looking toward the more boggy regions first. I have a feeling that it's the type of environment the brothers most likely would've gone to."

"Mmm." Albus barely glanced at the map Gellert was leaning over, staring instead at a small black mark embedded in the wooden table they sat at. The toes of his shoes dug into the dry grass beneath them, twisting into it as his mind whirred.

How could they have done that? Did they not know how important it was to him? Did they simply not care? Grinding his teeth together, he worked on controlling the fire within him. After all, if he didn't, he would probably share the same fate as his fath—no, he wouldn't.

"I think we should also focus on the mountain regions and move beyond Eur—You're such a git you know."

Albus could hear Gellert's voice, yet it seemed like it was in the distance.

"Mmm."

"You wear girl's robes."

"Aha," he mumbled, drumming his fingers on the table. What right did they have to treat him like scum? Did they have no compassion, no sympathy?

"I kissed Ariana."

"Okay."

"Albus!" Gellert shouted.

Jumping in his seat, Albus tore his gaze away from the table as Gellert slammed his fist onto it. The latter's cheeks were crimson, his beautiful blue-green eyes narrowed. His chest was heaving up and down, his left hand shaking. Albus held Gellert's gaze, wary of the boy's sudden outburst. Just as he knew his friend could become aggressive, he also knew that it was best to give him a moment to cool down before speaking.

For the next few minutes, he watched silently as Gellert closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths. With a sigh, the blond re-opened his eyes, the storm in them dispersing. "Albus, you do understand that we don't have forever to find them, don't you? I mean, most wizards out there don't have a hope of beating us to them, but we can't take any chances."

Albus nodded, looking away. "Of course I do."

"So, you must also understand that I need you to focus. I—though I highly doubt it—might have misjudged a few things. I need your input on this if we're to have a right go at it."

"I know."

Heaving another sigh and raking a hand through his curls, Gellert continued in a strained voice, "Then, care to explain why your mind is elsewhere?"

Albus shrugged his shoulders, still pushing his toes into the ground. By now, the yellowed grass had worn away, revealing more of the dirt that had covered the lawn since Ariana had been born. It wasn't Gellert's concern anyway; there was no need to bore him with the details. Besides, he knew Gellert disliked authority—whether it was Aurors who believed they ruled the world, or professors who claimed they were always right. The best he could do was to remain quiet about what had happened—he was most certainly not too fond of seeing the blond's temper flare up to the skies. However, when he heard the earnest tone in Gellert's voice at his next words he turned back around.

"Please, Albus, you know how important this mission is to me—to us," Gellert said, his voice just an octave above a whisper.

"I know, Gel, I know," Albus said, pausing. Gellert was watching him, his gaze unwavering. "Alright, I'll tell you. But you must promise not to get too worked up." Albus eyed him carefully as Gellert lifted an eyebrow. "Ok. This morning I went up north, to Edinburgh."

Gellert blinked, confused. "Why would you go all the way out there? Visiting a castle or something?"

"Well, that's where the Azkaban Offices are." Albus could see Gellert's brow furrowing, his lip pursed as he began to put two and two together. Before he could say anything, however, Albus decided it was best to be honest and continued his tale, "Anyway, it was a complete waste of a trip to say the least. The guards wouldn't even allow me into the waiting room, let alone through the security. They said that not only was I too young to be there—like really, I'm of legal age now—but that the 'Muggle hating bastard' didn't deserve any visitors. I must have pushed a little too hard, for the next thing I knew, the guards were—well, you know how they can get." He shrugged to make his point, smirking a little. Then, seeing that Gellert was silent, finished with, "So I suppose I'm just a little disappointed that I wasted all that time, that's all."

Gellert continued to remain silent, save for uttering, "Huh."

His blond head was bent once more over the map, eyes scanning the faded parchment. His face was stoic, no emotions present. Albus felt a sense of relief sweep through him when Gellert did not start ranting about the guards having no compassion, or about the power going to their heads, as he usually did when they were mentioned. Just to be sure, however, Albus cautiously added, "Honestly, the guards weren't too rough, it could've been much more worse."

Gellert didn't say anything. Instead, he picked up a quill and began marking several places in shiny, emerald ink. Albus watched as he circled a mountain range in Switzerland, known for its high population of trolls, crossed out a small forest in Hungary and a few rivers to the south of Germany, and placed a few question marks along the coast of Italy. It had been Albus' idea to search for the Hallows outside the United Kingdom, yet he hadn't realised that Gellert was willing to travel the entirety of Europe straight away.

Clearing his throat, Albus pointed to the small Hungarian forest. "The Gemenc Forest? Isn't that near to your old home town?"

The quill slipped, and a large green line tore across the map. Biting his tongue, Gellert withdrew his wand and muttered a quick, "Aufero pulvis." The mark disappeared, leaving the map as good as new—or at least as new as it had been. Then, placing his palms flat against the table and ignoring Albus' question, he quietly said, "You were going to visit your father in Azkaban, weren't you?"

Slightly taken aback, Albus nodded. "Yes."

Gellert squeezed his eyes shut, breathing deeply. "Why?"

"I wanted to see him—it's been a few years, after all. Don't worry though, I'm telling the truth when I say I'm not bothered by the guards anymore. Annoyed that they wouldn't let me in, sure, but they didn't hurt me as such."

"Why would you go see him?" Gellert repeated, his voice getting louder. Using his hands for support, he stood up, sending his chair toppling backwards. Then, opening his eyes, he turned them to Albus.

Albus was shocked to see the storm raging in Gellert's eyes. So it wasn't the guards. Narrowing his own eyes, he said, "Because he's my father. Of course I'm going to go visit him."

"You have always said that you wanted nothing to do with him—and now you're telling me that you've suddenly decided to go off to have a tea-party with him? How long have you been keeping that a secret?"

Straining to keep his own voice level, Albus swallowed. "I didn't realise that I needed to ask your permission to go off and see my father. And I wasn't going to 'have a tea-party', I just needed to speak to him."

Gellert kicked the chair in frustration. Tugging at his hair, his cheeks once more red, he gave off a false laugh. "You can owl him, for Merlin's sake. Oh wait, no—that would be too obvious. You're such a child sometimes, Albus!"

"Why are you so upset about this?"

"Upset? I'm furious! You lied to me, Albus. Just last week—and I quote—you said, 'Sod my father and my brother! As soon as we're gone, I won't have anything to do with them anymore!' What next, are you going to go inside and hug your brother? Sit inside and braid each other's hair?" Gellert's nostrils were flaring, his hands balled into fists by his side.

Albus himself wasn't far off the mark either—his entire body was shaking uncontrollably as the struggle to remain poised grew harder. Why was Gellert making such a big deal of this? Why couldn't he just let it go?

"Gellert, that's enough! I know I've said I'd never speak to him, but things changed. I don't know if I can forgive him for getting himself arrested, nor live down the embarrassment, but he's still my father and I have a right to speak with him when I wish to."

With a wry smile on his face that did not reach his eyes, Gellert shook his head once more. "You know what? You've always been a sucker. It's an embarrassment that you even want to visit that old, worthless fool. I'm not surprised though—coming from a family like yours, you probably think it's normal."

Something snapped in his brain, causing Albert's mind to ignite. With a pounding in his head, he shouted, "You wouldn't know what normal is! Your father is an alcoholic and your mother turned into Hungary's biggest harlot! With your attitude, it's no surprise that they—" The flame died before he could continue, and he quickly closed his lips.

"It's no surprise that they what?" Gellert asked, his voice ice-cold. His eyes flashed menacingly, challenging Albus to continue.

Albus swallowed thickly, not wanting to answer. He had gone too far and if he kept talking, it would only make things worse. Yet, as Gellert mouthed something along the lines of 'I thought so,' Albus couldn't help it but to quietly say, "That they abandoned you."

Gellert pursed his lips. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the tiny yard, taking care to slam the back gate behind him shut. Albus watched as the metal latch didn't connect properly, and the gate swung back open. Ordinarily, he would've expected his friend to come back and close it for good measure—as he once had in a previous argument—yet all he heard was the tell-tale crack of someone Disapparating.

Albus bent over the map, his nose pressed to the now-crumpled parchment. He didn't have an inkling of where one would hide an invisibility cloak and had angrily crossed off several of the countries on the map out of pure spite. Why was it so hard to pick a starting point? More importantly, how could he possibly concentrate with all the racket going on downstairs?

"Lunch is ready," Aberforth called from the kitchen for the umpteenth time.

"And, I think I did tell you that I'll be right down," Albus muttered under his breath. Honestly, one would think his brother was trying to be their mother or something. Making lunch did not make him some kind of a hero.

Rubbing his forehead tiredly and stretching out his arms, Albus pushed back his desk chair and walked to the window. For the last few weeks, he had peered through the small frame, hoping to see his friend down below in the tiny yard, waving up at him but, every day, the yard would remain devoid of his friend. It was thus with immense surprise that, as he half-heartedly glanced outside, he caught a glimpse of blond hair. Blinking, he looked again, only to see Gellert standing there, an impatient look on his face.

Albus' heart jolted. Snatching up his wand and the purple coat that hung over his bed, he raced out of his bedroom, down the stairs, and out of the door to meet Gellert. Once in the yard, he allowed himself a moment to compose himself, taking a deep breath and patting down his unruly hair.

"Hi."

Gellert's lips twitched, almost as though he was going to smile. "You took your time getting down here."

Albus could feel his own lips twitching, unsure of what to say next. Usually, when they had a falling out, it was up to him to make amends—whether he was right or wrong. This time it was different.

Gellert stepped forward and silently held out a book to Albus. Extending his hand tentatively, Albus accepted it, surprised at how worn the pale blue, leather cover was. Tracing a finger over the title, his eyebrows rose.

"The Tales of Beedle the Bard?"

Gellert nodded, and Albus flipped open the book to the page marked by a tattered, red ribbon. On the page, he could see someone had scribbled the Deathly Hallows insignia just above the title 'The Tale of the Three Brothers.'

"My father bought me that copy as soon as it was released. Of course, he had been furious he couldn't buy one written in Hungarian, but I was more than happy to spend time deciphering the runes," Gellert explained softly.

Albus looked into Gellert's eyes, surprised by their watery appearance. Blinking, the blond looked to the book, ignoring Albus' concern.

"I would read a different tale each night, though of course, the tale you are looking at was always my favourite. I took it with me everywhere, especially when the fights began. It's what made me believe there was more to this world; that if I found the Hallows, everything would be better." Looking up, Gellert smiled sadly. "I still believe it."

Albus licked his lips, more unsure on what to say than ever. Holding the book out for Gellert to take, he said, "I suppose… I suppose I've been rather insensitive, haven't I?" His cheeks felt hot as he realised how inconsiderate he had truly been.

Gellert, his eyes now twinkling, shook his head. In his own attempt at an apology, he said, "Keep it. I know the tale back to front." Looking at Albus as he held the book close to his chest, Gellert tilted his head. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are we going to stand around here all day, or are we going to go and plan some more?" Gellert asked, no trace of sorrow on his face. With a wink, he raced back to the house, laughing merrily.

Albus shook his head, pressing the book against his chest. His heart flipped at the touch and he smiled. All was well once more, at least for now.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I apologise if the title sucks, I really couldn't come up with one. This is also my first Grindeldore, written for the fabulous Lokilette.**_

 _ **A huge thank you to Arianna Waters and Lenore483 for taking the time to beta for me :) The idea of the book was also inspired by The Lady Arturia's QLFC Season 4 entry, 'A Leap of Faith.'**_


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